


Blood Brothers

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Battlefield, Character Turned Into Vampire, Gen, M/M, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki searches for Thor upon a bloody battlefield, eventually finding him far from the scene of blood and carnage. Thor, however, is a changed man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Brothers

Loki stood amidst the battle-fatigued Asgardian warriors, blood and broken limbs pooling at his feet. Not all of the blood was his own, and he had full use of all his limbs; instead, both blood and body parts came from those of the shuffling monstrous horde, who’d dared to come near him during battle. Vampires, werewolves, zombies, even a dark elf or two, had stormed the walls of Asgard, intent on gaining access to the vaulted halls that the Asgardians called home and to capture it for themselves. 

Loki let his sceptre dip towards the ground, tip propped amongst the blood and the broken bodies surrounding them, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. Briefly he closed his eyes, eyelids weighted down with the heaviness of fatigue, a slight ache that promised to blossom into something more, tugging behind his eyeballs. Twilight had long since turned into true night, yet the rain that had teemed through the daytime hours still continued. 

“We’re done here, Loki. Let’s go home,” Hogun’s voice said nearby, but it sounded as though he were speaking more to Loki because he had to, not because he truly wanted to.

Loki nodded his head curtly, to indicate that he’d heard, without even bothering to open his eyes at first. He heard the sounds of Hogun moving away, his deep voice addressing Volstagg next in quiet tones; that time, he sounded more respectful, even a little jolly, as though the fight had done little to knock the humour out of him.

Loki snarled a little to himself, thin lips curling in a contemptuous sneer at the folly of those who he shared halls with; he opened his eyes and turned away without even bothering to look in Hogun and Volstagg’s direction. He doubted they would even notice the digression; they, too, didn’t bother to bestow much attention to him at the best of times, merely doing so on occasion out of courtesy for Thor. 

At the thought of his brother, Loki cast his gaze about, wondering where the thunder god had gotten to. His quicksilver gaze that missed little darted over the battlefield, taking in the ravages of war as he did so. Bodies littered the too muddy ground, blood seeping into the wet soil and making it wetter still, rain teeming down from the sky to add more filth to the mess. Despite himself, Loki was a little relieved to notice that only a mere few of the bodies were actually Asgardian; the majority of the dead were their enemies. He saw no sign of his brother amidst the fallen, dead or otherwise; Thor was pretty hard to miss, with his shock of gold-blond hair, his too loud voice and his ever present smile and worldly swagger. Thor was nowhere to be seen, no matter how hard Loki looked.

Loki quelled a sudden stab of fear for his brother, an emotion he knew he would do well to hide from others. That he kept himself emotionally distanced from everyone except Thor was a well known fact around the halls of Asgard; Loki wasn’t about to dispel the general enigmatic mist about him any time soon. Instead, he strode purposefully away from everyone, as though he knew where he was going and what he was looking for. Faintly, behind him, he heard the sounds of Hogun and Volstagg calling after him, enquiring as to where he was going. Loki purposefully ignored them; he knew that neither one of them would deign to follow him. 

His boots sloshed through the blood and the mud, eyes casting all around him, yet still he saw no sign of Thor. He reached the end of the battlefield, the edge where trees bordered the grass clearing, branches drooping low beneath the weight of leaves and heavy spring blossoms. The trees were a surprising counterpoint to the carnage he’d left behind, as though some things remained untainted by the ravages of battle and death. Loki paid little mind to the beauty that spread above his very head; instead he plunged beneath the sanctuary of the trees, boughs darkening the night sky still more, the forest always in a perpetual twilight. 

Loki walked, without ever knowing where he was going; he just walked, letting his sharp instincts lead him where they needed him to go. Eventually he was rewarded by the sounds of groans from somewhere off to his left, deep guttural susurrations as though the person who made them was in pain. Loki frowned, recognising the pitch and timbre of the voice immediately, as that of his brother‘s. Loki had heard similar groans from Thor after battle, when Thor had pulled muscles or received wounds in the midst of fighting. Loki pressed onwards, pushing through the undergrowth that spread across the ground to his left, until he finally reached Thor’s side. 

Loki had expected wounds, yet even he wasn‘t quite expecting the sight that assailed him. In amongst the expected wounds on Thor’s body, was one that Loki had never seen before; twin puncture wounds that had been pressed deep into Thor’s neck, rivulets of blood, still tacky and mostly fresh, coursing down Thor’s tanned skin. Loki frowned and crept closer, to kneel beside the thunder god. On instinct, Thor’s eyes fluttered open, bright blue irises barely registering the fact that he was no longer alone, before the thunder god lashed out with one large hand and grabbed onto Loki’s blood and battle stained tunic.

“Easy, brother, it is I, Loki,” Loki said, soothingly, employing the use of his silvertongue to calm his brother down.

Thor settled a little, having recognised Loki’s voice, and soothing tone. Thor tried to sit, head swimming and sending everything out of focus momentarily; he felt Loki’s hand upon his arm steadying him, long fingers cold against his over-heated skin.

“Take me home, brother,” was all Thor said, his voice quieter than usual.

Loki hesitated, green eyes skimming Thor’s face for the briefest of moments; finally, he nodded. He knew that they would have to return to Asgard eventually, and that it would be wise to return there sooner rather than later; Thor’s wounds were in desperate need of tending.

He helped Thor to his feet, and steadied the heavier man as best he could when Thor swayed unsteadily upon his feet. Loki saw how much effort it took for Thor to focus, bright blue eyes blinking rapidly and squinting into the middle distance, as Loki helped him to walk. Eventually they had returned to the clearing where the battle had transpired and it was left to Loki to help Thor back towards his quarters. All the way, Loki found it impossible to tear his eyes from the puncture wounds on his brother’s neck; to Loki, it looked very much like Thor had been bitten by a vampire and the thought unnerved him. 

~~~

Loki’s hands were a cool weight against Thor’s forehead, the wet flannel he clutched held between slender fingers sending rivulets of water streaming over Thor’s florid face, mingling with the thunder god’s sweat. Thor seemed almost not to notice the water, too strung out on fever to do anything but reach blindly for his brother, large hands grasping and catching against Loki’s sleeve, inadvertently pulling the slender man closer. Loki didn’t protest, although he gritted his teeth against the imposition. It wasn’t the first time that Thor had used his not inconsiderable strength upon him; Thor always forgot how powerful he was when handling Loki, oftentimes too excitable for his own good. 

“Loki,” Thor said, and his voice was little more than a whispered, fevered moan.

“I’m here, brother,” Loki assured him, sighing with relief when Thor let go of his sleeve.

He applied more of the water across Thor’s brow, allowing the cooling, soothing water roll back against Thor’s heated scalp, and plastering gold-blond hair closer against it. Loki tried to stifle a yawn and mostly failed; Thor had kept him awake for three consecutive nights, and Loki had had little time for naps during the day. Thor, however, slept during the day, slept so deeply it reminded Loki of the sleep of the dead, or when Odin descended into his coma-like Odinsleep. 

When awake, Thor was restless, banishing all but Loki from his rooms. Even Sif, Thor’s life-long friend, was not allowed entrance, even when Loki suggested she would be a better nurse-maid. He made certain to voice such suggestions out of earshot of Sif herself; he knew the proud warrior-maiden would sooner fight him than be referred to as a suitable nurse for Thor. 

Thor had had none of it, feverishly arguing against every suggestion Loki threw his way, even his own mother. Loki had been the only presence he seemed to require; Thor had even almost gone so far as to chase Fandral from the room, staggering haphazardly after the laughing warrior, Mjolnir clutched between sweaty fingers as Thor threw every curse known to all the nine realms after the fleeing Fandral. 

Loki sighed, as he was brought back to himself when Thor moaned again, writhing in the bed as though he were in great pain. Loki mused to himself that Thor had always been a sore patient, never taking illness well. Loki laid one slender hand upon Thor’s perspiring forehead, drawing his hand away sharply when his palm connected with Thor‘s skin, far hotter than it had been before.

“Are you well, brother? You are scorching,” Loki said, in alarm. “I should get your mother.” 

“No. I will not allow our mother in my room, Loki,” Thor said, whispering voice rising to an almost shout now. “Keep her from me. I don’t want her seeing me like this.” 

“She’s your mother. She will do a better job of looking after you than I,” Loki insisted again, even as he pressed cool fingers against Thor’s cheek, the smoothness of his palm providing a direct contrast with the other’s rough beard. 

“I said no,” Thor said, blindly grabbing for Loki again. 

Loki sighed, and prised Thor’s fingers from his tunic, even as he nodded.

“As you wish, brother,” he said, quietly.

He continued bathing Thor’s brow with his flannel, yet the water did little to soothe the thunder god. Instead, Thor continued to thrash and moan, actions becoming ever more violent until Loki began to feel concerned for Thor’s own physical safety. He was almost ready to call for the guards when Thor went still, body relaxing back against the sweaty bedsheets, a relieved expression upon the other's bearded face.

Loki, too, relaxed, previously unaware of the tension that had strung his slender body taut. He rested one hand against his own forehead, palm still cool despite the heat from Thor’s skin from where Loki had been touching it. He was startled into sitting upright when Thor also sat bolt upright, body rigid and back straining against forces unknown. Thor’s face was closed tight as though with some great inner turmoil. Loki watched with mingled horror and fascination as his brother opened his eyes, and howled out a note of such great pain, it was almost a wounded bellow. 

“Thor?” Loki asked, when the bellow subsided. 

Thor whipped round to face him, eyes narrowed down to slits and teeth bared in a feral growl.

“I am not your brother,” he hissed at him. 

Loki barely heard Thor’s words and even if he had, he wouldn’t have argued; instead, he would have issued forth with a sarcastic comment, along the lines that that was what he’d been trying to tell him for years. Instead, Loki’s attentions were not on Thor’s words, but on his brother‘s mouth, where fangs dipped low beyond Thor‘s lips where no fangs had been previously. Loki reached forward despite himself, fascinated into wanting to probe further. He yelped when Thor suddenly darted forward and bit him, teeth sinking into flesh as Thor’s mouth closed around his finger. Then Thor drew away, hands grappling for Loki’s shoulders even as Sif and the Warriors Three came running in, alerted by Thor’s prior bellow. Loki raised one hand, gesturing for them to stay away.

“Leave us; all is well,” he assured them, without taking his eyes from Thor. 

“Are you sure? He doesn’t look too good to me,” Volstagg questioned, suspiciously. 

“I am fine. Leave us,” Thor said, next. “I wish to be alone with my brother.” 

Sif exchanged raised eyebrow glances with the Warriors Three, before they slipped from the room, honouring Thor’s wishes, instead of Loki’s. Loki sighed, all too used to being ignored. Thor leant forward, nose pressed tight against Loki’s neck, inhaling deeply. 

“You smell different,” Thor sighed.

“I assure you, I must not. Nothing’s changed,” Loki replied, baffled. “I am still the same as I ever was, unlike you.” 

“No. Your blood smells different to Sif’s or to Fandral’s. Colder. Thinner,” Thor decreed, as he licked Loki‘s neck with a lingering tongue. “I like it.” 

“Thor,” Loki said, pushing against the other’s broad shoulders ineffectually.

Thor steadfastly resisted against being pushed away, instead he leant closer, teeth grazing Loki’s throat. Loki tried pushing Thor away again, despite the fact that a certain inexplicable thrill pulsed through him. He suddenly wanted Thor to bite him, wanted to see if Thor dared to do so. He doubted that Thor would; Loki knew that Thor would never harm him, even if the harm came down to a singular bite. 

In that instance, he was proved wrong for once; Thor’s teeth fastened into his neck, fangs sliding deep into Loki’s veins. Loki felt the sharp sting of them passing through his skin and Thor’s hot mouth against him. He tried to pull away, yet Thor’s hold on him was too strong; Thor pulled him in closer, drinking deeply of Loki‘s blood, tongue lapping at the welling twin wounds, until he pulled away, sated. Loki struggled then, yet his efforts were for nothing; Thor proved once again that he was too strong for him.

Loki could only watch as Thor applied fangs to his own wrist, ripping at his flesh and leaving a gaping wound grinning there. Thor was on him in an instant, pressing the wound against Loki’s mouth and leaving him no choice but to drink. At first, Loki gagged, blood too heavy and thick against his tongue, until a sudden hunger crashed through him and he began to feed in turn. Thor soothed him through it with encouraging words, until he finally drew his arm away, reassuring Loki that he’d had enough. Loki rested his forehead against Thor’s shoulder, weary now.

Loki felt the familiar weight of Thor’s arms sliding around him again, as the other man pulled him into a hug. Loki’s eyes closed and he allowed the hug, almost smiling at the softness he felt in Thor’s body, as though the other man was deliberately trying to be gentle for once. 

“Shhh, Loki,” Thor whispered into his ear, despite the fact that Loki had made no sound. “I am here. I shall look after you, as I always have.” 

Even though Loki thought the comment a little contradictory given their history, he remained silent. In that one instant, he believed Thor; unlike Loki himself, Thor was incapable of lies or trickery. Loki knew that Thor would help him through the changes that were in front of him, just as Loki had helped Thor. He was dimly aware of Thor’s heavy hand against his scalp, pushing the dark strands of his hair from his forehead, as Loki turned his gaze to the ceiling. Oddly, the motions were comforting and he closed his eyes, allowing the contact for as long as Thor wanted it. His sight might be robbed temporarily, yet his ears were working more than adequately; as such, he couldn’t help but hear Thor’s next words. 

“Now, we really can be like brothers, Loki,” Thor said. “Just as I always wanted us to be. We’ve drunk of each other’s blood; that must make us brothers of the blood.” 

Loki smiled, even though his eyes remained closed. Strangely, that thought didn’t alarm him as much he thought it would. An odd and unfamiliar emotion flittered through him, then, gone in but an instant, yet not so swift as to elude Loki’s attention. His eyes opened, yet all he could see was the ceiling far above them, the weight of Thor’s hand still smoothing his hair flat against his head. The emotion that had been so unfamiliar to him was one he’d wanted to feel almost all of his life, yet had never hoped or dreamed he would feel. 

That emotion was acceptance.


End file.
